Of Katana and angels
by Shadow Of Castiel
Summary: Dean, Sam, Bobby and Castiel investigate some supernatural murders that look as though an angel is involved! Rated M for adult content Dean/Castiel
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTES** - This fic is written for smartassmusicjunkie94, who wanted a fic with Bobby finding out about Deana nd Castiel's relationship. This turned out way longer than expected, but I hope you enjoy it. =^x^=

* * *

Dean looked down upon the body sprawled haphazardly at the entrance to a South Dakota antique shop, eyes wide, staring, lifeless. The body was covered with cuts, slices, slashes as though the flesh had been carved into with the blade of a sword, or at the very least a sharp knife. He glanced up when Sam approached, and saw that his brother's face mirrored his own disgust at the gruesome scene.

"So, what d'you did this? The ghost of a pissed off ax murderer?" Dean asked, gesturing down at the body, face disgruntled, refusing to even look at the body for longer than he had to.

It hadn't been the first person killed around the premises of the antiques shop. There had been in excess of at least ten before Dean and Sam got wind of it, called in by Bobby when it was leaked from police files that the killings weren't ordinary like they were first supposed to be. It seemed that each victim had been murdered when they were alone, the shop locked, their bodies dumped outside in the morning.

"They're knife cuts, Dean, or sword cuts at the very least. Slices with a blade, not an ax," Sam corrected, hands on hips as his lips pursed in disgust, uncertainty, almost disapproval that was probably directed more at his brother than the dead body still laying sprawled at their feet.

"Okay, it was a mad knife thrower, or a loony sword slasher or something," Dean said, with an expansive shrug. "The sick son of a bitch still needs to be ganked whichever way you look at it."

Sam nodded, not rising to Dean's bait, barely looked up when Castiel suddenly popped into existence beside them, briefly touching Dean's shoulder in greeting and giving him a small, serene smile of support. Dean smiled back, gaze tender as he stared at the angel beside him.

"Hey, Cas," he said, quietly.

"Hello, Dean. Hello, Sam," Castiel replied, turning his gaze first to Dean then to his brother, translucent blue eyes flickering down to the body at their feet.

His brow furrowed, as though confused by something, eyes darker now than previously, raising his head as though sniffing something in the air around them. His gaze darted around the street, searching, intrusive, inquisitive, mouth set in a determined line when he came up with nothing.

"Cas? What's up, dude? You look like you've seen a ghost," Dean said, as Sam watched the angel closely.

"Or smelt something bad," Sam supplied, as Castiel's gaze settled once more upon their intent faces.

"An angel has been here," he announced, voice quiet, strained, sadness mixed in with his deep tones.

"An angel? Here? But why?" Sam asked, turning Castiel to face him with one large hand placed upon Castiel's shoulder.

The angel looked up at the younger hunter and shook his head, as though disgraced by his own inability to tell him anything.

"I don't know, Sam. I wish I did," he said, hands pushed deep within the pockets of his trenchcoat, shoulders slumped in defeat, eyes cast down to stare at the paved sidewalk beneath their feet.

Dean glared at Sam in warning, stare sharp, forbidding, warning clear within that one look and Sam stepped back, conceding to the warning, noting the tension within his brother's body. He knew that Dean was protective of his angel, knew that he couldn't push things too far with either Castiel or Dean; the angel, after all, was doing his best to help them with limited resources.

He walked away, looked up at the sky, each way down the street, before turning back, and saw Dean talking to Castiel, leaning in close, bodies almost touching in their shared privacy. Castiel was looking at Dean with wide, trusting eyes, replying occasionally but mostly seemed content in letting Dean talk. Sam watched them for a while, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth at the couple, so obviously in love it hurt to watch. His smile broadened when Dean cupped Castiel's cheek and kissed him gently, lips lingering against each other's mouths tenderly.

Dean looked up and over at Sam when the kiss ended, gestured to his brother to join them and stop watching them, and Sam closed the distance between them, smiled when Castiel turned large blue eyes up to his. The younger hunter patted the angel on the shoulder, smiled when Castiel's expression brightened by the brief, rare show of almost affection from Sam.

"What's happening? What were you talking about? Anything rude? If so, tell me," Sam said, laughing suddenly at the taken aback expression on Dean's face at that comment and the blank look on Castiel's.

"We were talking about what angel Castiel might have sensed here. He didn't know. We thought we'd go to Bobby's, see if he knows," Dean replied, looking at his brother dubiously, from the corner of his eye. "The hell I'd tell you anything about what I get up to with Cas, anyway."

Sam's smile faded, and he looked sour instead over his failed attempt at a joke.

"Yeah," he said, looking away, observing the progress of police making their way up the street towards them.

When he looked back, Dean had already looked away, but Castiel, at least, was smiling, a rare show of amusement settled deep within his eyes at the brothers banter. Sam smiled back at him, realizing more clearly than ever in that one instant that they were the only friends, the closest thing to family that the angel had. He nodded at Castiel, tried to show him that he was wanted with them and Castiel offered him a wistful smile in return, realizing what Sam had implied.

"We good? Are we going?" Dean asked, turning his gaze to Castiel's when the angel slid his hand around Dean's, fingers curling around the hunter's palm.

Dean squeezed the angel's hand, own fingers wrapped protectively around Castiel's more slender ones, as they followed Sam away from the dead body still laying upon the ground, back to the Impala and from there, on to Bobby's.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: Thank you **smartassmusicjunkie94**! To be honest, the same thing happened to me - I never got a notification as I usually do in my inbox to tell me I'd even posted anything when I knew I had, neither am I getting notifications for reviews as I usually do. I think there's something wrong with the site. (face palm) I'm sure it'll straighten out soon .... hopefully .... (shifty eyes) =D I am glad that you're enjoying it so far, as I did enjoy writing this one!

And thank you **Shadow Cat17** - I'm glad you are enjoying this so far! And thank you for reviewing the other two stories I posted yesterday! I'm glad you liked those too! (I didn't get your review notifications either, so can't reply through the proper means, as yet ... shifty eyes) =D

And thank you **Melissa Brite** - It's much appreciated that you're lovin' it! XD

and now ...... **chapter two**.

* * *

"An angel? You sure?" Bobby asked, frowning at Castiel uncertainly when he heard the update from their latest hunt.

"Yes, there was an angel there. I felt a celestial presence had been there recently. Someone powerful. Not quite an archangel but someone close to being one," Castiel told him. "The angel was old, very old, older than me."

"But you don't know who?" Bobby asked again, eyes narrowed at the angel standing before him.

"No. It was no angel I recognized, so I'm guessing it must be someone in another garrison maybe, or another outcast, perhaps," he said, voice dipping lower at the last part of his sentence.

Bobby looked away in discomfort, sympathy clear in his gaze although his usual gruffness covered that up when he spoke.

"Okay. Let's say it was an angel. What would make an angel kill a human?" the hunter asked, as Sam passed a beer to Dean, one to Bobby, one to Castiel.

I thought angels were supposed to be protectors, guardians of humans," Sam pointed out, voice lifeless, as though he didn't quite believe his own words.

"With the exception of Lucifer, I can't think of any other angel who'd do something like that," Bobby said, reaching his fingers beneath his ball cap to scratch his head.

Castiel shook his head, backing up Bobby's statement, when Sam and Dean looked askance at him, mouth too busy wrapped around the neck of his beer bottle as he took a fizzing mouthful of fresh cold liquid. Dean's gaze lingered on the angel's mouth, swallowed convulsively once, twice when Castiel wiped his shining lips with the back of his hand, blue eyes trained on Dean's face in turn.

Sam ignored the tension between the lovers, all too used to the atmosphere sometimes between them to even notice any more, but Bobby remained oblivious, too busy rifling through books in hopes of finding some information about murderous angels of years gone by. Dean had specifically asked both his brother and his angel to remain silent about his and Castiel's relationship, to leave it to Dean to tell the older hunter when he felt it necessary to tell him. Looking at Bobby now, head bent over his beloved, dusty books, Dean found it hard to imagine even beginning to form the necessary words to him.

Castiel distracted him, by settling companionably next to him on the couch, hands briefly touching, fingers caressing, knees pressed tight despite the expanse of couch beneath them. Dean smiled at him, settled into Castiel's comfortable warmth, continued sipping his beer silently, and if Bobby noticed their unusual closeness, he certainly didn't remark upon it. The elder hunter soon had them all leafing through books, stacks of documents on angel lore, but by the end of the night, no one had found a thing to work on ....

* * *

Later that night, Castiel and Dean were finally alone, Sam having long excused himself to sleep somewhere more private in Bobby's house, eyes twinkling as he spared the lovers an amused glance over his shoulder as he left. Dean caught the glance, mouthed a - "thank you!" - before silently wondering if Bobby would be so understanding as his brother was. He didn't know, and thought that was an enigma to be unravelled another day, another time. This time was for Castiel.

As soon as the door closed quietly behind Sam, Castiel's lips were pressed tight against Dean's, hands pawing at the hunter's body beneath his flimsy t shirt urgently, tongue licking at Dean's firm lips until they parted for him. Dean's arms held Castiel closer to his own body, felt the angel settle into him closer still, heavy weight a comfort against his skin.

Dean cupped Castiel's ass beneath his pants, arms covered with the weight of the angel's ever present trenchcoat, legs entwined and heavy against one another. He felt the unmistakable bulge of Castiel's erection press insistently against his own, a firm reminder of the angel's need in that one moment. Dean felt Castiel move, attach his lips to Dean's exposed neck, before the angel started to suckle a bruise into Dean's skin.

Dean's hands flexed in time with Castiel's seeking mouth, gentle teeth nipping at salt sweat skin as Dean huffed a contented sigh against Castiel's shoulder. It seemed a long time since they'd truly been alone, yet when Dean thought about it, it had only been a couple of days. He moaned when he felt Castiel bite harder against his neck, teeth almost breaking the skin and drawing blood, firm tongue lapping out in kitten strokes to soothe the flesh tenderly.

Dean moaned again, whispering groans that wouldn't bother any one flittering through the darkened room and making Castiel respond in kind against Dean's neck. Dean shifted beneath Castiel, attempted to get into a better position, something that was more comfortable for them both. The angel's body seemed to meld into Dean's effortlessly, became more responsive, tense, eager to please and Dean whimpered beneath him, pleaded for something more than what Castiel was doing.

Castiel drew away, lips swollen and red in the dim lighting, eyes huge, blinking, eyelids heavy with lust as Castiel tilted his head at Dean curiously. The hunter grabbed Castiel's hand, eased it between their tight packed bodies, before he started rubbing their entwined fingers over his erection, making encouraging noises as he chased Castiel's mouth for another kiss. The angel kissed him, fingers moving independently of Dean's now, applying more pleasure, making Dean's hips rise and fall beneath his questing hand.

Dean's harsh breath cut through the air loudly, caught in his throat when Castiel squeezed his dick gently, rubbing faster at his erection until Dean came, released into his boxers with his cries muffled against the angel's shoulder, eyes shut tightly against the pleasure coursing through his veins.

Castiel drew away, murmured something incoherent when Dean pitched him gently onto his back, to straddle him and trap him beneath his own body. Castiel's deep chuckle rumbled through the night, eyes resting heavily on Dean as the hunter pulled his t shirt up and over his head, lithe body catching the light in sweaty shining spots. Castiel's slender fingers stroked in tickling patterns across Dean's exposed abdomen, over his sides, pinching at Dean's nipples until they were erect and hard beneath his touch.

Dean lifted his hips from Castiel's, struggled from the tight confines of his jeans, finally kicking them away to shore up against the couch nearby. His boxers were draped on top of them, soon followed by Castiel's coat and suit jacket. Dean fumbled the angel's tie from his neck excitedly, popped a few buttons free from his shirt as he tried to hastily unbutton Castiel, finally removing his lover's pants and boxers eagerly.

Castiel's erection sprang free, curled up towards his abdomen proudly, as he watched Dean slide his lube from his bag nearby, ass bare, upturned and catching the light. Castiel's hands were lifted when Dean straddled him once more, slender fingers settling against Dean's naked hips and raising aroused goosebumps on his lover's flesh.

The angel watched as Dean spread lube over his fingers liberally, before he stroked his own hole gently, eyes closed and lips parted in gasping, dragging breaths as he eased a slick finger inside himself. Castiel's dick twitched with interest and his breath caught in his throat, eyes half closed as Dean worked himself loose in preparation for Castiel's entrance. Finally, the hunter had finished, eased his fingers from his body gently, using the lube to stroke slick coldness over the angel's straining cock eagerly.

Castiel settled beneath him, hips moving frantically against Dean, as the angel sought more friction from the circle of Dean's fingers. Pleasured moans fell from aroused lips, muffled slightly when Dean's fingers pressed against his ripe mouth gently, so as not to disturb the others in the house. Castiel nodded slowly in understanding, remained as quiet as he could when Dean pulled his hand away from Castiel's plump lips, gazes locked as the hunter settled his hips over his lover's, pressed down until he was taking Castiel's cock inside his hole.

A look of discomfort, pain passed over Dean's face and they waited until the burn of intrusion passed, left Dean bare in its wake, free to press downwards onto Castiel's cock. The angel thrust into Dean eagerly until he was fully sheathed inside him; the hunter unable to take any more of Castiel's erection. As one they started to move, bare skin slapping firmly against bare skin as they writhed, Castiel's hands holding Dean steady and firm as they thrust.

Dean threw his head back, filled with pleasure and rapture at the feel of Castiel moving inside him, filling him up and thrusting into him firm, hard, fast. The hunter wrapped his fingers around his cock, started touching himself roughly, wrist pulling at his dick in firm strokes, breathy pleas of need purling in his throat, his chest as they rutted and fucked against each other.

Castiel watched Dean as he pleasured himself above him, watched his lover unravel, skin flushed, reddened and sweaty as he climaxed, thick spurts of Dean's come covering Castiel's abdomen in sticky strands. Dean struggled to keep the scream of Castiel's name to a bare minimum, chest heaving with the effort to remain as silent as possible, hips still rocking against Castiel's urgently.

Dean felt Castiel's body stiffen beneath him, felt the shift and tension that preceded the angel's climax, before he came, filled Dean with his hot, sticky release, head thrashing from side to side as he came, Dean's name passing from his lips in a pleasured, low moan.

Castiel was barely aware of Dean lifting himself from his already softening member, before settling close against his sated, sweating body, reaching out to grab Castiel's trenchcoat from the pile of clothes nearby. The angel smiled wearily at Dean as the hunter covered their bodies with the coat, before watching the hunter drift slowly into much needed sleep ...

* * *

-tbc-


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was aware of someone standing over him, one large hand shaking him vigorously and Castiel's deep, commanding voice calling to him. The hunter cracked his eyes open slowly, saw Castiel sitting beside him, fully dressed except for his trenchcoat, looking down upon him with a tender expression held deep within his blue eyes. Sam was the one who was shaking Dean insistently awake, dark eyes stretched wide in his urgency.

"Dean, get up, before Bobby gets in here," Sam hissed, as Dean sat up, almost head butting his brother into unconsciousness on the way up.

Castiel smiled, reached out and pressed a flattened palm against Dean's forehead, blinked and Dean was dressed.

"Hey, thanks, Cas," Dean said, before he yawned hugely, pawing at his eyes sleepily.

Castiel retrieved his coat from Dean's lap, but made no attempt to put it on, seeing more fragile, smaller somehow without the tan material wrapped around his slender frame. He was still sitting there in his dark suit when Bobby came in, rolling his wheelchair with practiced ease and flinching slightly at what he assumed was a stranger in his house.

"Cas, you idjit, I thought you were someone else," he grumbled, turning away from the coatless angel grouchily.

"Sorry, Bobby," Castiel said, as he wrapped his coat around his shoulders once more, shrugging into the thick material and looking like himself once more.

Bobby didn't notice, just carried on rolling into the kitchen to make breakfast for everyone. Even though Castiel said he didn't need sustenance, Bobby made him some food anyway, refusing to hear it, loitering with intent nearby until the angel dutifully ate the elder hunter's cooking. Surprisingly, Castiel ended up eating more than anyone that morning, even Dean, who had second helpings of Bobby's bacon.

Bobby was smiling at the angel, eyes crinkled in the corners as he started to chuckle proudly, shaking his ball-capped head in wonder. Castiel tilted his head to the side, thin cheeks stuffed with fried eggs and mushrooms.

"I could get used to you being around, son," Bobby said, as he clapped the angel gently on the arm. "I like you. You eat my food!"

Castiel merely smiled, puffed his chest out proudly, as though grateful that Bobby had finally accepted him into his small family circle. Dean winked at him proudly, gave him a brief hug when Bobby was other wise engaged, stealing a greasy kiss from Castiel's egg-flavored lips. The elder hunter sorted though a few things before returning to Dean's side.

"We'd best be getting along," he said, not noticing that Dean's fingers were wrapped around Castiel's hand protectively. "We've got a long day ahead of us and it won't wait for us just 'cos we're tardy."

"Huh, Bobby? Where are we going?" Dean asked, casting a glance at Castiel, who merely shrugged, lips pushed out in a ripe pout of confusion.

"The antiques store, ya idjit. I thought we talked about this last night," Bobby reminded him, looking up at him sharply. "Not like you to forget something like that, boy."

Dean didn't have a ready explanation for him and neither did Castiel. The older Winchester threw Sam a warning glance when he opened his mouth dangerously wide, making Sam grin and flash his deep dimples in the early morning sunlight. He puckered his lips in an exaggerated kissing face at first Dean, then Castiel before opening his mouth once more. Dean held his hand out over Bobby's head palm flat and outstretched as though threatening to slap Sam, earning himself a confused look from Bobby himself.

"What's got into you this morning, boy?" Bobby asked him, gruffly.

"He didn't get enough sleep last night," Castiel offered, face too innocent, too demure, almost choir-boy like in gentle persuasion. "Kind of restless to get onto the hunt."

"Yeah, what he said," Dean replied, nodding too emphatically to be comfortable.

Bobby didn't look convinced, but still he looked away, hefted his wheelchair through his living room, with the Winchesters and Castiel in his wake.

* * *

The search at the antiques store proved non-conclusive. The EMF meter held between Dean's determined fingers showed there was something otherworldly about the place but it seemed to have no known focus. Everywhere provided a reading. The fact didn't make sense to any of them; judging by Castiel's angelic radar, there had been an angel involved, but Dean couldn't understand why that angel was showing up on his meter. By all accounts, he shouldn't have been.

"None of this makes sense," he said, rubbing at the back of his neck with a weary hand, huffing breath in a long, worn out exhalation into the dusty air.

"You're telling me," Bobby groused on his way past, wheeling over to the far wall and staring up at a pair of Samurai swords hung ceremoniously on the plastered wall.

"You're not thinking of buying those things, are you?" Dean asked, as he watched Bobby curiously.

"Dean, you idjit, the victim was killed by knife wounds," Bobby reminded him, sharply. "These are the closest things to knives in the whole store."

"So whoever killed that poor bastard yesterday used an antique pair of Samurai swords?" Dean asked, lifting his eyebrows at Sam.

Castiel remained expressionless beside him, large blue eyes taking in the proceedings with a vaguely curious air. His hands were pushed deep into the pockets of his coat, looking for all the world like an innocent child right then to Dean, even though he was anything but. The hunter reached out, stroked Castiel's shoulder gently, before returning his attention to Bobby.

"Makes more sense than anything else," Bobby replied to Dean's earlier question.

"Okay, so we have the murder weapon. We have a start. Now we have to figure out who did it, and why," Sam said, with a weary sigh of his own.

"That's where you come in," Bobby said, turning his eyes onto first Dean, then Castiel. "You're staying here tonight, see if you can catch the son of a bitch."

"And what are we gonna do?" Sam asked, uncertainly, quirking his lips uncertainly at the older hunter.

"We're staying outside, keeping watch in case these two need back-up," Bobby replied, in determination, jerking his thumb in Dean and Castiel's direction.

"Sounds like a plan," Dean said, glad to be doing something other than just standing around chatting and being confused by events. "Now lets get some food; it's getting late and I'm hungry. Got a long night ahead of us."

He smiled at Castiel, who smiled back, blue eyes shining translucently in the darkened room. If Bobby even noticed the tension held between them, the obvious spark of love exchanged between them, he didn't comment, just wheeled past them on his way out of the store.

* * *

-**tbc**-


	4. Chapter 4

"How d'you think Dean and Castiel's getting on in there?" Bobby asked, binoculars held close to his eyes, scanning the front of the darkened antiques store closely.

"I should think they're getting on fine, Bobby," Sam replied, distracted, leafing through one of Bobby's old books in hopes of trying to find more clues.

Bobby mumbled something incoherent but remained largely silent. Then he said something that made Sam look up at him sharply.

"They seem pretty close, those two," the older hunter said, dropping the binoculars to his lap and turning to face Sam, a thoughtful expression clouding his bearded face.

Sam didn't know what to say, so just shrugged instead.

"Yeah, well, Castiel pulled Dean from hell, you know that. Dean's his charge. They're bound to be close," he hedged, evasively, uncertain as to how much to say to him.

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid, boy. I know what's going on. I've seen the way they look at each other, the way they touch each other when they think I ain't looking," Bobby said, unimpressed. "I suppose you think you're doing your brother a favor by keeping quiet, but I can see what's happening. I'm in a wheelchair, I ain't blind."

Sam shrugged, cleared his throat in discomfort, turned away and stared out of the windshield as though something out on the street was very interesting indeed. He remained silent, trying to think of which words to say without compromising his promise to Dean.

"You gonna talk, boy, or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?" Bobby prompted, reaching for his gun from the back seat.

Sam sighed, shoulders slumping beneath his hooded jumper, before nodding to Bobby reluctantly.

"If Dean asks you, I never told you this, right?" Sam asked, refusing to look at Bobby until the hunter had said something in return.

"Right," Bobby said, eyes intent on Sam's face.

"Dean and Castiel ... they're more than just friends," Sam said, lamely, pushing one hand through his hair in a nervous gesture, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "They're ... um - "

He fell silent, wondered what to say without sounding too crude, still remaining respectful to their relationship. He smiled, before continuing.

"They're in a relationship," he said, relieved that he'd found the right words to say to Bobby.

He turned to face Bobby, eyes skimming over the older hunter's expression, found it blank, unresponsive, unreadable. Sam remained silent, expecting a storm of anger to break from Bobby, flinched when Bobby shifted beside him as though expecting to be hit as though this was all his fault.

"You're okay with this?" Bobby asked, voice as blank as his expression.

"Sure, of course I am. Dean's my brother. I've never seen him so happy," and Sam made a kissy face beneath the stars shining through the windshield.

Bobby at least chuckled at the overblown display of love from Sam, but still he remained quiet on the subject. Sam continued to watch him, wanted to prod him for opinions, but was distracted by the sudden flare of light strobing out of the antique store windows in myriad sparkles of electric blue light.

Without exchanging further words, without even needing to, Sam climbed from the car, went round to the passenger side, helped Bobby into his wheelchair, all the while hoping that they weren't too late to do something if Dean and Castiel need their help ....

* * *

Dean sat on the floor of the antiques store, rolling a stray ball between ceaselessly moving fingers, needing the distraction of constant movement to occupy his mind and hands. Castiel, meanwhile, seemed content to remain silent, still, unmoving, eyes watchful, hand playing occasionally with Dean's hair in lazy, tender movements. Dean shuddered every time, leant in to the contact gratefully, eyes half closed and a smile curling the corners of his mouth, seeming like a petted cat with his movements.

Castiel smiled in turn, wound his fingers through the feather soft hair at the nape of Dean's neck and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips every time. Dean tried to deepen the kiss, wanted more than just the brief brush of soft lips against his own, but the angel always pulled away before they got carried away. Dean looked disappointed, but didn't complain; he knew that the job came first, pleasure would come later.

At the stroke of midnight, Castiel's patience and Dean's apparent impatience was rewarded. Movement began to stir at the other end of the store, scattering motes of dust in its path as a large object picked up speed, momentum, intent. Dean stood, gun upraised and ready, while Castiel stood quiet beside him, head raised, eyes searching the store in front of them.

Dean turned when a wind passed him, ruffling his hair and the edges of his shirt, fluttering his eyelashes closed against the draft. He whirled, crouched, pointed the gun everywhere in the hopes of finding something to shoot at but coming up short on all fronts. Castiel turned, crouched, hand outstretched before him as though ready to smite at a moment's notice.

"Where are you?" Dean called, waiting for response from an unknown, unseen adversary, yet receiving no immediate response.

Castiel frowned, before he said - "I think he's gone."

"I don't think so, Cas. He's playing with us. It would make me feel safer if you had a weapon or something," Dean said, turning to face the angel beside him, a look of concern and worry creasing his forehead for the briefest of instants.

It made the hunter uneasy to think that Castiel refused to rely on a knife, a sword, a gun, anything to defend and protect himself, when they both knew that the angel's powers were fading and patchy on a good day. Dean didn't like the idea of Castiel not being able to defend himself, perhaps being injured or, worse, killed, just because he wouldn't take a weapon. The hunter knew that if Castiel didn't survive, he wouldn't either.

He turned away, a troubled look clouding his face, knew that he must truly be in love with Castiel, if he knew that the angel's death would kill him too. He vowed to himself that if they survived this, if they made it through the night, then he would make Castiel take a weapon, even tell him why if that's what it took to get him to use one.

He didn't get a chance to think further on the subject because an unseen force slammed into him, pushed him aside and pinned him to the wall, separated him from Castiel who was pinned to an opposite wall. Dean couldn't move, couldn't even fight back and struggle against his invisible bonds; all he could do was watch Castiel try the same to little effect.

"Dean," Castiel called, gruff voice seeming deeper still with obvious strain. "Dean."

"What?" Dean called back, wondered why Castiel was being so insistent on talking to him right now when he should be concentrating on freeing himself, then Dean.

"Look away," Castiel demanded, eyes hot, commanding, intense against the darkened room around them.

"I can't, Cas, I'm trapped like this," Dean gritted out in frustration, unable to move even an inch.

"Close your eyes then," Castiel said, didn't do anything until he was satisfied that Dean had followed his commands, obediently for once.

Dean saw nothing past the private embrace of personal darkness afforded by his closed eyed state, saw the distinct burst of light coming from Castiel's direction as though the angelic essence of Castiel was being set free if only in brief fits and bursts, a strobing effect flickering across Dean's eyelids.

Dean wanted to look, felt the urge to at last see Castiel in his true form but resisted, found he couldn't go against Castiel's orders when he would cheerfully rebel against anyone else. He waited, impatiently until finally, he was released from his bonds, crashing to the floor suddenly in a limp heap ...

-**tbc**-


	5. Chapter 5

"Jesus, Cas," Dean said, even though he knew that the angel had probably saved him, and hadn't meant to dump him on the ground.

"Sorry, Dean," Castiel said, looking weary, worn, face drawn and tired beneath the strain of sustaining his true form under duress.

He leant down, helped Dean up despite his weakened state, smiled when the hunter wrapped an arm round him instead to support him. Castiel leant into him gratefully, accepted the support, and Dean rubbed his back, his side, his arm, everything he could reach until the angel started to look strong again.

"Did you see it?" Castiel asked, looking up at him with trusting blue eyes that made Dean's heart ache.

"See what, Cas? You told me to keep my eyes closed," Dean said, with a sudden snort of laughter.

Castiel's surprising laugh rumbled in his chest, before he said - "Since when have you started taking orders from me, Dean?"

Dean chuckled back, but couldn't put into words just how he felt. He'd done it because Castiel had asked him to, because he'd thought there was reason to protect Dean and the hunter had respected, responded to that decision without question.

"Love made me do it, I guess," Dean said, uncomfortably, before changing the subject, eyes darting around the ruffled antique store in wide sweeping glances. "Is that it? Is it done? What did you see anyway?"

"It was a samurai, Dean. I saw a samurai, with such anger, sadness, pain coming from his spirit. He seemed restless," Castiel observed. "I don't think it's over. I think I scared him away for a time. I'm not strong enough - "

He didn't get the chance to carry on, neither did Dean have toe chance to respond to him, as the wind returned, swirling past them in eddying banks and turns, buffeting their sore, bruised bodies with every new twist in the breeze. From outside, Dean could hear the faint sounds of hammering at the front door, the even fainter sounds of shouting, voices that sounded like Bobby and Sam, calling urgently at the door.

Another voice joined theirs, speaking Japanese, unintelligible words assaulting Dean's ears in a deafening roar and he ducked beneath the weight of the anger and the pain held within the voice. He sheltered Castiel with his body, struggled when the angel tried to do the same to him, before both were finally satisfied with wrapping their arms equally around each other.

Castiel shouted something into the roaring wind, tried to match the Japanese voice in volume and strength, shouting words in Enochian that sounded more homely to Dean than the Japanese words did. Dean didn't know what he was supposed to do, so merely stood there, waiting for the end to come, deciding that if this was it, at least he was dying with the one he loved.

"Look, over there," Castiel suddenly said, in English, pointing over to the side of the room, made Dean squint in that direction, shading his eyes against the wind with his protective hand.

In the corner, where Castiel had indicated, stood an angel, watching, dark robes ever present against a strong body as he strode forward.

"Michael?" Dean asked, wondered if the Archangel had finally come to claim him, but Castiel beside him shook his head.

"No, Dean, that's not Michael, that's Azrael," he said, certainty making his voice strong and resolute against the uncertain wind still buffeting them.

"Azrael?" Dean questioned, the unfamiliar name hanging heavy on his lips.

"No time now, tell you later," Castiel assured him, eyes wide, face lit up from the angelic light pouring over them from Azrael in front of them.

"Castiel, my brother," Azrael said, in English.

"Azrael, good to finally meet you," Castiel responded, gaze wondrous as he stared upon the angel now standing before them.

"Do not worry, brother, I have not come for you or for your charge," Azrael said, face brooding, yet filled with such overwhelming kindness, it held Dean with such awe, it was breathtaking to see.

Castiel and Azrael conversed in Enochian, cutting Dean out from the conversation, yet strangely he didn't mind. It was a comfort to the hunter to finally see an angel that didn't seem opposed to Castiel, that seemed friendly, kindly even towards him, so the hunter gave his lover the time he needed with his much missed brethren.

"Close your eyes, Dean," Castiel suddenly insisted, covering Dean's face as further measure with one slender hand.

He turned Dean's face away, and the hunter rested his head against Castiel's shoulder, burrowed into the angel's coat as he felt his wing envelop them both in its soft, feathered embrace. Dean felt a backwash of heat, of light, of such purity, love, kindness and the overwhelming sounds of an angelic voice wrapping around them, hard to bear in the ever present wind still buffeting them.

It didn't take long for Dean to lose consciousness, finally fully supported by Castiel's strong, comforting arms around him ...

* * *

-**tbc**-


	6. Chapter 6

_**AUTHOR'S NOTES**_: This is the last part of this story - I hope you've enjoyed it, as I've definitely enjoyed writing this one. =)

I hope everyone has a nice Christmas! **Merry Christmas**, y'all. \m/ ^x^ \m/

* * *

Sam burst into the antiques store in a flurry, closely followed by Bobby, wheels catching against the linoleum beneath them.

"Dean," Sam said, sharply, catching sight of his brother cradled in Castiel's arms, body limp, chest rising and falling in steady, reassuring breaths.

"He's fine, Sam," Castiel said, raising one slender hand to keep both Sam and Bobby from crowding the unconscious hunter. "He's just a bit worse for wear."

He turned luminous blue eyes up to first Sam, then Bobby, looking so content, so peaceful in that one instant, Bobby had to smile despite himself. Castiel looked happy, tender, one hand cupping Dean's face briefly in support as the hunter stirred in his arms, large green eyes blinking up at Castiel blearily.

"Cas?" Dean's said, his first word weary and hoarse in a dry throat.

"I'm here, Dean," Castiel said, cradling the hunter's head in the crook of his elbow, chuckling in a soothing rumble as Dean settled down in a more comfortable position.

Dean yawned, before he said - "I wanna go asleep."

Castiel laughed again, chuckles soon stopped by Dean reaching up and claiming the angel's soft mouth in a gentle kiss. Bobby started to grin, eyes lighting up and making Sam smile in turn. The older hunter shrugged his shoulders at the sight, settled down still further in his wheelchair to watch the show, heart growing warm in his chest. Sam cleared his throat, attracted Dean's attentions away from Castiel's mouth to them instead.

"Oh hey, Sam, hey, Bobby. I knew you were there," Dean said defensively, making Bobby begin to laugh.

"Ya idjit, you had no idea," he said, as he tuned away, wheeling through the dust and abandoned, smashed objects on the floor to stare at a pile of ash and molten metal at Dean's lax feet. "What the hell happened in here?"

"Quite the opposite in fact," Castiel corrected, one hand supporting Dean as the hunter struggled to sit.

Bobby looked up, smiled again at the way Dean settled into Castiel's body, as though claiming the angel as his own, acting possessively as though Bobby were about to take Castiel away from him.

"I ain't gonna take him away from ya, boy. You look like a kid with a toy," the hunter said, scowling in disapproval at Dean's actions. "All I wanna know is what happened here."

Dean stared at him, wondered if he'd heard right, that Bobby was seemingly accepting his relationship with Castiel, leaving the angel to answer the all important questions. He explained that an angel had visited them, Azrael, the Angel of Death, come to reclaim the spirit attached to the Samurai swords now laying melted at Bobby's unresponsive feet.

"Azrael claims lost spirits, shepherds them back to Heaven where they truly belong, therefore not letting them get in Lucifer's hands," Castiel explained, patiently.

"So, he's on our side, then?" Dean asked, speaking for the first time since Castiel started explaining.

"Yes, I should think so," Castiel replied, touching Dean's cheek with one gentle hand, as though he was marking his territory like Dean had earlier.

"So why didn't you recognize him yesterday? You said there was an angel, yet you didn't know which one he was," Sam pointed out, as he knelt in front of Dean, eyes transfixed by the molten metal, long fingers picking up a shining lump carefully.

To his surprise, the metal was already cool, fires long since quenched by angelic forces still surrounding them.

"Azrael is reclusive. He left Heaven years ago, way before I was there," Castiel said, voice gentle. "I'd heard tell of him, but had never met him. No one had met him, except a few of the oldest archangels. He went to Earth to study humans more closely, to do God's work within the masses, so to speak."

"So what about this samurai you saw? What does he have to do with anything?" Bobby questioned, gaze trained rigidly on Castiel's face, intent, thirst for knowledge and understanding clear in his eyes.

"The Samurai had a message," Dean chipped in, repeating the unfamiliar words as close as he could in a language he couldn't speak.

The pronunciation was off, but the message was still clear and legible to Bobby.

"Avenge me. Tonight you will die, unless you can avenge me," Bobby translated easily.

"Avenge me? What does he mean - avenge me?" Sam asked, looking up from the chunk of metal still twirling uselessly in his fingers.

"He was a victim of the swords, not the wielder. His blood stained the metal, and he wanted his murderer to be avenged. It seemed that the murders here were his way of trying to find the original samurai who'd killed him," Castiel supplied. "Azrael's part in this was to put his soul at rest, take him Home where he belongs."

"I see," Sam said, watching as Dean yawned again, settled still further against Castiel's side.

Bobby watched them, smiled when he saw Castiel kiss Dean's head gently, but had already turned away when Dean looked up and over at him.

"I think that's enough excitement for one night. I think we should go home and get some sleep," Bobby said, gruffly, sparing Dean and Castiel a quick glance. "Or, you know, whatever it is you two get up to when you're alone."

Dean gaped, watched Bobby ease himself outside onto the sidewalk, before he turned to Sam.

"He's taking this very calmly, Sam. I thought he'd beat my brains in with a sharp stick for what I'm doing," Dean said, turning to Castiel when the angel chuckled.

"And why would he do that?" Sam questioned, helping first Dean, then Castiel to their feet.

"I thought he wouldn't like the fact that I've gone gay for an angel," Dean muttered, at least having the decency to look embarrassed by his own admission, as though even he thought his logic was whacked.

"You know he thinks the world of you, Dean. Probably more than you realize. I think he's just happy you've found someone to settle down with," Sam said. "Really, Dean, you gotta give people more credit than that. I mean, I'm okay with you, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Dean said, smiling when he felt Castiel take his hand. "Thanks, Sammy."

Sam just shrugged, smiled, then followed the two lovers back to the car wordlessly. Even though Dean knew Sam's words to be true, that Bobby thought of him as a father did a son, that Bobby only wanted Dean to be happy, he still couldn't believe that the older hunter had been so readily accepting of his relationship with Castiel. He wondered if perhaps the older hunter was preparing Dean for some ribbing, that he maybe hadn't heard the last of this like he hoped.

* * *

The fire crackled loudly in front of Dean and Castiel, sending warm glowing light over the pair's faces. Dean watched Castiel, caressed his face while thinking that the firelight was kind to the angel, made him look more beautiful than ever. Castiel leant into Dean's touch, eyes closing, a slight smile touching his face, before Dean leant in to steal a kiss from his lover.

"D'you think Bobby's really alright with us, Cas?" Dean asked, when the kiss ended.

"Yes, Dean. It's like Sam said - he wants the best for you; anyone can see that, even me. I think he's happy you've found someone to love," he said, and shot Dean a hopeful glance, blue eyes catching the firelight in shimmering red-white-yellow-gold sparks and the effect was breathtaking. "Considering our current situation, I think it's necessary. Love, I mean, and I think Bobby knows that."

"I think he'd be right," Dean murmured, and Castiel smiled, knowing that it was the closest Dean was ever going to come to saying he loved him, at least yet.

"It's alright, you know. To admit you love someone," Castiel said quietly.

"Not when you're a Winchester. Or at least usually," Dean corrected himself. "I think I'll be the first Winchester who actually gets lucky. At least if we see out the Apocalypse of course."

Castiel chuckled then said - "We will, or die trying."

Dean had to laugh at that, pulled Castiel close into his body and tucked his chin against the top of the angel's head, soft hair tickling the skin of his neck. They remained in that position, unmoving, silent, contented, Castiel's fingers caressing Dean's abdomen in lazy rhythms.

"Cas," Dean said, suddenly.

"Yes, Dean," Castiel replied, turning to face him once more.

"I want you to start taking a gun or a knife with you everywhere, you hear? I don't want you getting yourself hurt or worse," Dean said. "No if's or but's or anything. That's an order. I don't want someone I - love - and care about dying on me, okay?"

Castiel's face was bright, beautiful and he nodded agreeably.

"Okay, Dean," he said, knowing that that was another way of Dean saying he loved him, indirectly.

"We're gonna get through this apocalypse together," Dean said, as though further cementing his resolve to win.

Castiel nodded, settled further still beneath Dean's outstretched arm, body snug against the hunter's side, smiled when he felt Dean press a lingering kiss against his hair line. They were still sitting like that, Dean asleep and Castiel meditating, when Sam crept into the room, on Bobby's orders, to place a pink bow on both Dean's and Castiel's heads.

The young hunter crept away, hoping that Dean would get the message that this was Bobby 's way of accepting their relationship, fully expecting that Dean would bitch about the bow being pink in the morning, hopefully laughing - eventually - while Castiel remained curious and as stoic about any given situation as usual ....

-**fini**-


End file.
